Hermione Falling
by LynstHolin
Summary: Preparing for her OWLs, Hermione studies herself into exhaustion, and literally falls into Draco's arms. SO VERY FLUFFY.


This story was inspired by the utter adorable-ness of this drawing on deviantART: .com/art/Bugger-212221055

The artist, ladyburara, also was my beta reader.

Disclaimer: Draco, Hermione, and the rest don't belong to me. But they do what I say, anyway.

Warnings: SMOOCHIES. And one swear.

...

Hermione was rudely awakened by Madame Pince hitting her about the head with a feather duster. "We-" smack- "do-" smack- "not-" smack- "sleep-" smack- "on the BOOKS." Smack, smack, smack. "You're just lucky you're not a drooler."

Wrapping her arms protectively around her head, Hermione was momentarily befuddled. _Wha... where am I?_ Her eyes began to focus, and she remembered that she was in the library at Hogwarts. The past few weeks, she'd been studying frantically for her OWLs, and the lack of sleep was catching up with her.

The barrage of blows stopped. "Now, go. This is not a dormitory, and it's time for me to lock up."

Hermione gathered up her things and went out into the hall. Not fully awake yet, she was seized by a yawn that seemed to start at the tips of her toes and run through her whole body, up through the top of her head. Eyes closed, she swayed on her feet.

"Bugger!" exclaimed a boy, very close to her ear.

Hermione opened one eye. She wasn't sure how she'd fallen, or why she'd fallen on top of Malfoy, or why she was clutching the front of his sweater. He looked as confused as she was, and his cheeks were very pink. "Mmm so sorrr.." Her eye began to droop shut.

...

_Is she really falling asleep on top of me?_ Draco watched Hermione's head settle down on his shoulder. Her hair, which smelled of strawberry shampoo, fell across his face. The hand clutching his sweater relaxed, spreading in a soft caress. The stone floor was cold on his back, but Hermione's slim body felt pleasantly warm against his.

For the past few years, Hermione had been nothing but a source of annoyance to Draco. His father somehow always knew when Hermione's grades were better than his, and Lucius hated the idea of his son being outshone by a Muggle-born. Hours of stern lectures and shouting that Draco'd had to endure were all due to this slip of a girl that he now held in his arms.

He could feel the beat of her heart, the way her chest expanded and contracted as she breathed. He smoothed her hair back, liking its springy feel, so her could see her face. _When did she get so pretty?_ Even the violet shadows that fatigue had put under her eyes were lovely. All that time and effort he'd put into despising her... what a waste.

"Did I just see Miss Granger topple over on top of you?" Professor McGonagall was leaning down over the two students, forehead furrowed in concern.

"I think she's fainted."

"I'm not surprised. The girl has been overdoing it. I'll take her to Madame Pomfrey to make sure it's nothing serious." McGonagall used her wand to gently levitate Hermione into an upright position. "It's a good thing you were there to break her fall, Malfoy." The amused, knowing look that the Professor gave Draco made him blush again.

...

Madame Pomfrey pulled a curtain open, allowing sunlight to fall on Hermione's face. The girl blinked herself awake, then sat up. "What am I doing in hospital?"

"You studied yourself into complete exhaustion. You do realize that you won't do well on your OWLs if you're sick, I hope." The Matron wheeled a tray of food to Hermione's bed. "And you're getting too thin. Eat all of this, or I'll give you a fattening potion." Hermione picked up a piece of heavily buttered toast, then paused, frowning. "What is it, Miss Granger?"

"I... I had a dream." Hermione's face reddened.

Madame Pomfrey, used to the ways of hormone-addled teenagers, just raised an eyebrow and went on to her next patient.

...

The next day, Hermione was having trouble concentrating in class. Her distraction got worse in potions; she was all too aware that the boy she'd dreamed about was sitting just a few rows behind her. She fumbled her books, dropping them all on the floor, and she managed to fall off her chair while she was picking them up. When she tried to stand up, one of her shoes flew off and hit Neville in the shin.

Snape gave her an irritable look. "Today, if MIss Granger can pull herself together, you will be learning how to make a potion that, when drunk, will render you unpalatable to biting insects for a full twenty-four hours. But this potion must be made precisely right. The tiniest mistake, and it will turn you chartreuse, instead. First, you will all need to get a dried toad from the cupboard."

Hermione secured her wayward shoe and walked to the cupboard, so immersed in her embrassment that she didn't realize Draco was there until it was too late to retreat. They reached for the dried toads at the same time, and their hands touched. They both froze, staring at each other.

"Would you two hold hands on your own time? You're holding up the rest of the class," Snape barked.

Hermione snatched her hand away, spilling several jars of supplies. The mingling of things like Alihotsy leaves, wormwood, mercury, and dragon's blood produced a noxious cloud. Hermione retreated to her table blushing to the roots of her hair. Snape rushed to the cupboard, wand out, and Vanished the mess.

"What's gotten into you?" Ron asked.

"It's nothing. I'm just a little tired is all." Hermione involuntarily looked over at Malfoy, who was looking back at her so intently that, instead of sitting on his own chair, he sat on Goyle's lap instead.

...

"Back again already, Miss Granger?" Madame Pomfrey shook her head. "Ah, well, I'll get you back to a normal human color in less than an hour. Oh, you, too, Malfoy?"

They sat on beds across from one another, their skin identical shades of bright green. The Matron gave them both foul-tasting concoctions to drink.

"Is it working yet, do you think?" Draco asked.

Hermione squinted at him. "It's hard to tell. How about me?"

"Maybe I can tell if I get closer." He moved to the foot of her bed.

Hermione scooted down towards him, peering at his face closely. "I think it's fading."

"You, too, I think." Draco sidled right up next to her. "Yes, definitely." He put a hand on one of Hermione's cheeks, and she sucked her breath in sharply, leaning into the touch. She closed her eyes as he lowered his lips to hers.

It was a gentle kiss, and Hermione sighed when it ended, winding her arms around him and clutching his shoulders.

"We couldn't possibly work as a couple, you know," she murmured.

"I know. It's just not possible at all." He put one arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him.

Hermione put her face in his hair, inhaling his scent. "Can't happen." She nuzzled the spot where his shoulder met his neck, and he made a small, sweet moan.

That was when Madame Pomfrey hit them both with a jet of cold water from her wand. Hermione shrieked and Draco tried to block the spray with his hands. "No student is getting pregnant on my watch. Get out of here, the both of you."

Out in the hall, Draco was immediately dragged away by Pansy and her gang of girls. Hermione watched him moving away from her, the look he gave her over his shoulder giving her a peculiar, bittersweet ache in her chest.

...

A week later, their paths crossed in a corridor that wasn't used much. They stopped, a couple of meters apart. "I can't get you out of my mind," Draco said.

"Same here."

"But it could never work." He took a step forward.

"Never in a million years." Hermione's body seemed to move all on its own, drawn toward the tall blond boy like like a magnet to steel.

"We'd have to keep it a secret from our friends." He was close enough to enfold her in his arms.

Resting her head against his shoulder, Hermione said, "And from your family."

With one finger beneath her chin, Draco lifted her head up. "We just can't be together." He slanted his mouth across hers. This kiss was deeper and longer than the first one they'd had in the hospital wing. Hermione's body melted bonelessly against his, and Draco made that moaning sound again. When he pulled back, they were both flushed and breathing rapidly. "But I don't care. I'll make it work. Somehow."

Hermione caressed his face, the sharp chin, the high cheekbones, the lips whose touch made her breathless. "Yes."

"You're mine."

"Yes." It was a feeling like vertigo, like free-fall, letting go of the future she had so carefully mapped out for herself, and embracing the unknown. Hermione knew only two things for sure now: that her life would never be the same, and that it was because of the boy in her arms.


End file.
